


ikitai yo, kimi no machi

by Chash



Series: this is our story [1]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, F/M, Minor Finn Collins/Clarke Griffin, Minor Monty Green/Nathan Miller, Minor Octavia Blake/Lincoln
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-10
Updated: 2015-05-10
Packaged: 2018-03-29 22:52:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,617
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3913651
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chash/pseuds/Chash
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clarke is absolutely not going to get her first college crush on her RA/her roommate's brother. That would be inappropriate.</p>
            </blockquote>





	ikitai yo, kimi no machi

**Author's Note:**

> I know really embarrassingly little about UNC Chapel Hill considering both my parents lived in North Carolina and my cousin went to college there. Nothing about the campus or its programs was researched at all. Sorry, UNC Chapel Hill.
> 
> Title is from "Suteki Da Ne," which is the theme song for Final Fantasy X, because, as I have mentioned, I'm a big fan of nerd lord Bellamy Blake. Translated it means "I want to go to your city." Also, I've now named fics after the theme songs from Final Fantasies VIII to X, which gives me nerd bingo, right? Yeah it does.

The first thing Clarke sees when she gets to college is two hot people arguing, which is not really a bad way to start off higher education, as far as she's concerned.

"I cannot believe you!" the girl is shouting. She has long brown hair and fierce, light eyes, and even though she's a few inches shorter than the guy she's fighting with, Clarke doesn't feel confident she could call who would win that fight.

The guy has messy black hair that looks like it would be a ton of fun to draw. He has his arms crossed, showing off pretty impressive muscles under his dark t-shirt. He's scowling, but not furious like the girl is. "Look, I didn't--this wasn't on purpose."

"Oh, sure, of course not. You just _happened_ to--"

"Miller didn't know his shitbag ex-boyfriend was the third-floor RA, he asked if I'd switch with him last-minute. I swear, this wasn't my idea. I would've told you."

"Clarke?" Her dad's voice snags her attention, and she turns away from the arguing couple.

"Sorry," she says. "Just taking in the sights."

Her dad insisted on renting a U-Haul and driving her halfway across the country to college, even though she tried to convince him she could fly. But it's been kind of nice, in a slightly weird way; it feels like a proper sendoff, a fitting end to her childhood.

"No problem," he says. "But my flight's at nine, I want to have time to buy you dinner before we leave."

"I think we won't need six hours to move a van full of stuff into a dorm room," she says, amused, but she grabs a few boxes and gets moving.

Her dorm room is on the first floor, for which she's grateful; it's late August and still hot, and the last thing she wants to do is haul all her shit up a bunch of stairs in this weather. She's been in brief email contact with her roommate, enough to know that her name is Octavia, she's from around here, and she is bringing a minifridge. Which is all Clarke really needs from a roommate. She really likes juice. She wants a place to store it.

Octavia's stuff is already around, half-unpacked, on one side of the room. Clarke starts putting hers on the other, and they're on the second round of boxes when the brunette from earlier comes into the room, followed by the guy she was fighting with. "Oh!" says the girl. "Hi! You must be Clarke."

"Uh, yeah," says Clarke. She puts down her box and offers her hand. "Nice to meet you. This is my dad, Jake."

Octavia shakes. "Nice to meet you too." She jerks her head over her shoulder. "This is my brother, Bellamy. He's our RA, because he's an overprotective dickhead."

Clarke hears her dad hide his laugh with a cough; Bellamy looks irritated for a second before he gets it under control. "I told you, that's _not_ why," he grumbles. He offers Clarke a smile, and shakes her hand as well. "Welcome to UNC. Like O said, I'm your RA, so if you have any questions, my door is always open."

"Oh my god, you are the most embarrassing person of all time. This is why I didn't want you to be _my_ RA," Octavia huffs, elbowing him. "Do you guys need help unpacking?"

Between the four of them, they get the room set up to Clarke and Octavia's specifications without much trouble. Bellamy occasionally wanders off to check on other students moving in and make sure no one has giant furniture they can't handle, but he's there when they finish, so her dad offers to treat both Blake siblings to dinner.

The two of them exchange a look that makes Clarke wish she wasn't an only child, that she had someone she could communicate with like that, a silent, almost telepathic camaraderie.

"Sure!" Octavia says. "That would be great, Mr. Griffin."

At dinner, they learn Bellamy is a junior, studying computer science (because he wants to make money after he graduates) and history (because, per Octavia, he is a giant history nerd), and he and Octavia have lived here almost their whole lives.

"Mom died when I was fifteen," Octavia says, way more casual than Clarke thinks she could be three years out of the death of a parent. "I had to go live with my dad in Tallahassee for a few years, which sucked. But that's not happening again."

Bellamy nods. "Thanks for not making me move to Florida, O."

"Florida _sucked_ ," says Octavia, and the two of them bump fists. "You're from Michigan, right?"

"Yeah."

"And you're Jake Griffin," says Bellamy, careful. Clarke tries not to wince, but she's not sure she makes it. Her dad's always just been her dad to her, the guy who gave her piggyback rides and helped her with her physics homework, but Bellamy apparently watches enough college basketball to know his name. 

Her dad inclines his head. "I am Jake Griffin."

Clarke's expecting a lot of questions about the team, the season, maybe an autograph request, but Bellamy just nods, like he's filing the trivia away for later.

"So, what classes are you taking, Clarke?" Octavia asks, and the weirdness--if there was any weirdness, aside from her--passes.

Octavia and Bellamy go inside before her, giving her privacy to say goodbye. She smiles at her dad, trying not to tear up. "Thanks for the ride," she tells him, just like she always did when he drove her in to school when she was a kid.

He smiles and hugs her. "Have a good day, sweetheart," he says, his standard line, and then he goes.

Clarke is alone, seven hundred miles from home, with absolutely no one she knows. Just like she wanted.

She passes Bellamy's room on the way to hers; as promised, his door is open, and he's sitting on a futon couch reading. Clarke knocks on the door frame and leans her head in. "Thanks for the help," she offers. "With unpacking."

"No problem." He pauses and adds, "I know Octavia made fun of me, but I was serious. If you've got problems or anything you need to talk about, that's what I'm here for."

She smiles. "Thanks."

"And, uh--" He looks embarrassed. "Octavia probably _won't_ come to me, so--keep an eye on her, okay?"

"Yeah," she says, a little charmed in spite of herself. It's sweet. "Night, Bellamy."

It's not actually anywhere near time for bed, of course, but the only people Clarke knows beyond a quick introduction in the hallway are Octavia and Bellamy, and when she heads back into her own room, Octavia isn't there, so she doesn't have much of a plan for the evening. She supposes she shouldn't be surprised her roommate took off; Octavia did go to school here for most of her life, and if Clarke was at Michigan State, she'd know a ton of people already too.

But this was what she _wanted_.

She gets her laptop out and checks to see if Wells is on Skype; he is, of course, so she calls him up, smiling when she sees his face in a half-decorated dorm room. "Hey."

"Hey. How's North Carolina?"

"Hot."

"See, you should have come to Maine," he says. "It's not hot in Maine. It's never hot in Maine. Maine doesn't know what hot is."

"Yeah, but then I'd be in Maine," she teases.

"I'd take north over south any day," Wells shoots back. "I never want to live anywhere someone might call the Civil War the War of Northern Aggression. That's my one rule."

"Good rule. So, how is Bowdoin?"

"Small, rural, but pretty. I think I should get into hockey. Not playing, just learn the lingo. I'm studying on wikipedia."

"That is a very sad use of your first night at college."

"It's my second," he points out. "And you're the one who called me within, what, fifteen minutes of your dad leaving?"

"Shut up. My roommate seems cool, but I dunno where she went. Her brother's our RA. I'm meeting people."

"Good job."

Octavia comes back in then, flanked by a couple guys, spots her laptop and says, "Oops! Hi, Skype dude."

"Hi," says Wells, waving. "Roommate?"

"Yup."

"Best friend. Talk to you later, Clarke?"

"Sure. Bye, Wells."

"You didn't have to hang up," Octavia says, sitting down on her bed. "This is Monty and Jasper, we went to high school together until I had to move to Florida."

Jasper is wearing goggles, which is a life choice Clarke cannot support, and Monty looks like he might be stoned. She still likes them on sight.

"Clarke," she says. "Nice to meet you guys." She flashes a smile at Octavia. "Wells was making fun of me for not having anything better to do than call him, so your timing was actually good."

"Well, we're gonna go see if we can hook Monty's Wii up to the TV in the common room for Mario Party," says Jasper. "Want to come? It'll destroy our friendship before it even starts."

Clarke laughs. "How can I say no to that?"

To her surprise, Octavia stops by Bellamy's room on the way. "Hey, we're gonna play video games, come on."

Bellamy looks amused too. "I thought you didn't want me hovering."

"Video games isn't hovering, it's hanging out. You remember Jasper and Monty, right?"

Bellamy closes his book with a put-upon sigh and lopes after them, which surprises Clarke less than Octavia asking him to come, but it's still a little odd. She wanted to come to college to make it on her own; she wonders what it would be like to have someone she missed so much she'd always go back to them, like Octavia came back to her brother.

Bellamy gets a call half an hour later and makes vague noises about a friend who just arrived and needs help with boxes. He ruffles Octavia's hair and takes off, and his sister just watches with a fond, if somewhat exasperated smile. "I can't believe he got himself assigned as my RA."

"Come on, it's awesome," says Jasper. "We're gonna get away with everything. He used to give us booze in high school."

" _You'll_ get away with everything," Octavia grumbles. "I'm never going to get away with anything." But she looks a little excited about it, like pulling a fast one on her brother is something she's looking forward to working on.

Monty must come to the same conclusion, because he snorts. "Yeah, I'm sure you're going to let that stop you."

Octavia beams. "Well, it might slow me down a little."

*

She has a bottle of vodka by the next _day_. Classes don't start for another week, but they have freshman orientation activities, which are mostly boring and useless. After dinner, Octavia tugs her back to their room, locks the door, and pulls the vodka out of her laundry bag.

"We're going to get to know each other," she says.

"Okay," says Clarke. She worries her lip. She wanted to be a new person in college, to be someone different than the girl she'd grown up as, but she's apparently taking baby steps. "I've never actually--I mean, I've tried wine and stuff, with my parents, but I've never gotten _drunk_."

"That's cool," says Octavia, easy and non-judgmental. "You have that cranberry apple juice in the fridge, right? We can mix it and play something. To get to know each other."

Clarke's pretty sure it's possible to get to know someone without drinking, but she is in college, and this is supposed to happen. "Doesn't your brother have to report us if he finds out?" she asks. She's not sure if she's included in the _Bellamy will overlook this_ camp or the _never getting away with anything_ camp. 

"He won't," she says, confident, although it's hard to tell if Octavia thinks he won't report them or he won't find out.

Either way, this is probably as good a time to start on being a newer, more fun version of herself as any. "Okay," she says, grabbing the juice and her cup. "What are we doing?"

"Hmmm," says Octavia. "Two-person, all-girl truth or dare is _always_ just truth, so it's stupid to call it truth or dare. You want to ask each other questions or do two truths and a lie?"

"How are either of those drinking games?"

"If you guess my lie, I drink, if you don't, you drink," says Octavia, instantly. Apparently she's got a lot of experience with this. "For truths, if you don't want to answer something, you can take a drink instead and get a new question."

"Two truths and a lie," Clarke says. She doesn't want to drink when she's too shy to share.

"Awesome." Octavia pours vodka and juice into their cups and holds hers up. "To roommates."

"To roommates," Clarke agrees. The drink isn't _good_ , but it's not as bad as it could be. She still makes a face, and Octavia grins.

"You get used to it. I'll go first." She considers. "I ran away from home for eight hours when I was ten and Bellamy called the police. I have a sixth toe on my left foot. I won a beauty pageant when I was five."

Of course, her first instinct is to look at Octavia's feet, but she's sitting on them. "Running away," she says.

Octavia holds up her cup and drinks. "I was twelve and it was six hours, but Bell _did_ call the police."

"Let me see your toe."

Octavia extends her foot, and sure enough, there's an extra toe crowded in on the end. She wiggles it. "Your turn."

Clarke feels worse at this game than Octavia by default, but at least she guessed the first lie. "There's a hospital named after my grandfather," she says. "I got accepted to art school but my mom wouldn't let me go. I got arrested when I was fifteen."

"Arrested."

She grins. "Drink up. My mom wouldn't even let me apply to art school."

Octavia drinks again. "What did you do to get arrested?"

"I was supposed to be feeding our neighbor's cat while they were on vacation, and they left a key for me on the porch. But they accidentally locked the porch door before they left and I couldn't get in. I panicked, I thought the cat was going to die. I ran home and got my dad, and he helped me break in, but a police car drove by while we were doing it and they took us in." She bites her lip. "Once my dad told them who he was and explained, they took us back and we got in and found the key they left and a note for me. I was so scared, I thought they were going to put him away forever." Now she understands that they might have--if she wasn't white and her father wasn't the basketball coach and her mother wasn't from the richest family in town, there might have been trouble. But they were the Griffins, and the cops laughed it off.

"I don't know if that counts as being _arrested_ ," says Octavia, but she sounds amused. "You'd better drink too, liar."

Clarke laughs and does so. It still tastes gross. 

The truths get more personal as they get tipsier. She finds out Octavia lost her virginity at fifteen, that Bellamy is three years older than her, not two, because he took a gap-year after high school to make a little extra money, that she tried to run away again when she was seventeen and got all the way to North Carolina before Bellamy sent her home after a Star Wars marathon, because he was pretty sure it was illegal for her to live in his dorm room.

"Is it nice?" she asks.

"What?" 

Clarke worries her lip. "Having a brother."

"Yeah." She grins. "You don't have one?"

"Only child."

"That's cool. You can share Bell. He always wants to take care of everyone."

Clarke takes a sip of her drink (her second), because she's gotten used to the taste and kind of likes the detached feeling it gives her. "I got my first kiss when I was sixteen. I'm a virgin. I'm bisexual."

Octavia considers for a long minute, looking at Clarke like she's trying to see right through her. "Not a virgin," she says.

"Drink. Never even been kissed."

Octavia boggles. "What? Why?"

Clarke shrugs. "My best friend--Wells, the guy I was Skyping with yesterday--I think everyone kind of just assumed we'd get together. You know how it is sometimes, there are always those friends you're sure are going to be couples." She looks down, still a little guilty. "He thought that too, which sucked, because I love him, but not like that. But no one else really ever showed any interest. Maybe it's because they thought I was already taken, or maybe I'm just not that interesting." She smiles. "And we've already established I didn't go to a lot of parties."

"Huh," says Octavia. She grins. "Well, if that's something you want to happen, we can definitely make it happen."

It's the least judgmental and most supportive way Clarke can think of for her to have said it. "You're going to be a great roommate, aren't you?"

"The fucking _best_."

She passes Bellamy on her way to the bathroom after; he takes one look at her, shakes his head, and says, "Don't forget to drink water."

She blushes, but does as she's told.

*

There's a school-run party for freshman on their first Friday. Octavia, Jasper, and Monty spend a while debating how drunk they want to be, if at all.

"I don't even know how you got booze this fast," Jasper says, with a not unreasonable amount of awe. Octavia is impressive. 

"I have connections," she says.

"You moved to Florida for two years, how do you have more connections than we do?"

"Boobs," says Octavia.

Bellamy sticks his head in before they can get much further in the discussion. "Don't be drunk tonight," he tells them.

Octavia's eyes flash. "Don't you--"

"Jesus, O," he says, sighing. "I'm not telling you what to do, I'm just saying they're always really strict at the first party. If you're drunk, they'll notice and search your room. If you're going to the party, don't drink before."

Octavia looks somewhat mollified. "Okay, fine. Thanks," she adds, grudging.

He rolls his eyes. "I'm not actively trying to ruin your life."

"I think you might be slightly overreacting to the _my brother is my RA_ thing," Monty remarks, after Bellamy leaves.

Octavia scowls reflexively. "Yeah, well."

They go to the party sober, and it's pretty much how she thought it would be. The music is too loud (Clarke has a low tolerance for loud music), the dance floor is crowded, and some number of people are drunk or high. Bellamy was right, the school does seem to be keeping an eye on the more disorderly kids and taking them aside. Octavia rolls her eyes when Clarke points it out.

She dances in a big group with Octavia, Monty, and Jasper; a guy tries to make one-on-one time with her, but he's clearly on something and really not her type, so Octavia scares him off for her.

"We'll find you someone better!" she shouts over the music.

"I'm seriously good!" Clarke shouts back, and Octavia lets it go.

The next morning, she runs into Bellamy on the way out of the shower. "How was the party?" he asks, apparently not caring that he's not wearing anything but a towel and a pair of hideous teal flip-flops. His entire upper body is kind of insane. But he's her roommate's brother, and her RA; the only way Bellamy Blake could be more off-limits would be if he was dating someone. Which he could be. It's not like she'd know.

"Uh, fine," she says, reminding herself that there's a conversation happening, in addition to his completely incredible arms. "Kind of boring, honestly. And the music was too loud."

He laughs. "Yeah, college-sponsored parties tend to suck."

"Thanks for the warning."

"Hey, you're here to learn. I don't want to ruin the experience for you."

"That's so nice of you. Really."

He grins again. "Well, I became an RA to give back to the community."

She doesn't have anything to say to that, so there's this awkward pause where they just kind of look at each other, and he's still mostly naked, hair even curlier when he's damp, and she is absolutely, completely, and totally not allowed to develop a crush on him. Her first college crush is going to be someone, well. Someone _possible_.

Not Bellamy. Definitely not Bellamy.

"Anyway, see you later," says Bellamy, rubbing the back of his neck. "Glad you kind of had fun."

"Yeah," she says, and goes to the bathroom to wash her face with cold water.

*

By the second week of classes, Clarke is already tired of parties, which is--bad.

"I was supposed to be different in college," she tells Wells. Octavia has taken off to party with a sophomore she met in her English class, and Clarke begged off, so here she is, her third Friday away from home, sitting in her pajamas Skyping with her best friend from high school. Before _he_ goes to a party.

"You thought you were just going to magically turn into a different person?" Wells asks. "I don't think it works like that."

"I wanted to be less--" she huffs. "I thought once I got away from my parents and all their expectations, I'd want different things."

"Well, do you want to study all night alone?"

"No, definitely not."

"What do you want to do?"

She considers that, and then says, "I wonder if Monty's Wii is still in the common room. I _suck_ at Mario Party."

"On the one hand," says Wells, "I approve of you getting out of your room and doing something else. On the other, I think playing Mario Party alone might be sadder than studying."

"Shut up and go to your party."

She goes to the common room by way of Bellamy's room because, well, just because, and she sees his door is open. He's sitting on his futon with a video game controller, and she wonders why _he_ isn't doing something better with his time. But he smiles when she knocks on his door frame and jerks his head for her to come in. "Hey, Clarke. What's up?"

She sits down next to him, looking at the pause screen of whatever game he's playing. "Not much. I didn't feel like hitting another one of Octavia's terrible parties."

He laughs. "Yeah, her tolerance for shotgunning things is a lot higher than mine." 

"I like it sometimes," says Clarke, drawing her feet under her. "When I can talk to people and hear myself think. I'm actually really good at beer pong, apparently."

He laughs. "Congratulations."

"Thanks. What are you playing?"

"Oh, uh, Final Fantasy X. Remastered. It's pretty good." When she doesn't say anything, he goes on, "The voice acting is spotty, especially at the beginning, but I really like the combat system, and the game's overall aesthetic is pretty cool. Most of the earlier games in the series have a kind of medieval European fantasy feel to them, but this one has more of a--" He cuts himself off with a cough. "Sorry, this is not interesting."

"No, it is," she says, laughing. "I never really played video games as a kid. My mom was one of those very anti-screen parents. We had a computer because how can you not have a computer, these days, but we didn't even own a TV."

"Wow, seriously?"

"Yeah. It was cool in some ways, I went outside a lot and drew all the time, but any time I was hanging out at a friend's house I'd just be like, we can watch TV? There are how many playlists of cats falling off things on YouTube? Tell me more about Vine."

He laughs. "Your ideas intrigue me and I would like to subscribe to your newsletter."

"Exactly. So tell me about the game."

"So, the first one game I played in the series was Final Fantasy XIII, which was--"

"Wait, if it's the _final_ fantasy, why are there thirteen?"

"Do you want to hear about this or not?"

He unpauses the game as he talks, telling her about the history of the games, the broad differences between Japanese RPGs and western ones, the ways the series has changed and what things are constants across titles. "What?" he asks, when he notices her smiling.

"You know, I was trying to figure out why you were in your dorm room on a Friday night instead of doing something more exciting, but your extensive knowledge of the Final Fantasy franchise kind of answered that question for me."

He grins at her. "I wanted to be around for everyone who _wasn't_ invited anywhere. Just in case. The first few weekends can be hard. I have a social life."

"Uh huh," she says. "The only person I've seen you hang out with so far is your sister. I'm just saying."

He saves the game and stands, stretching. "Okay, go get dressed."

"What?"

"We're going out." She raises her eyebrows, and he smiles. "Not to a party. My ex-girlfriend and a bunch of our friends have a place off campus. We're going to hang out."

Bellamy's a junior, and Clarke feels a little self-conscious going to hang out with his friends, but she's not going to say no. She's already pathetic, and he's trying to help. "What about the poor freshmen who need your guidance?"

"I'm guiding you, aren't I?"

He has a shitty blue pickup truck, which is so exactly what she pictured someone from North Carolina driving that she has to laugh. When he raises his eyebrows, she shakes her head. "Nothing."

"Sure."

The house where his friends live isn't too far out, only about ten minutes drive. She gets increasingly nervous as they approach because, like--it's weird, right? Going off with her RA/roommate's brother to hang out with strangers on a Friday night.

But it's not what she would have done in high school. So at least there's that.

Bellamy enters the house without knocking. There's already a small group of people in the living room, sitting in a circle around a cup and a bunch of cards. "God, I should have called," he says. "I try to show my freshman I'm not a loser and you guys are playing kings?"

"What, kings is for losers now?" asks a scruffy guy. "Kings is for _winners_ , Blake."

"She's one of my freshmen, and therefore _eighteen_." He glances back at her. "Right?"

"Yeah."

"Well, really, what were you expecting?" asks a girl. "Grab beers and have a seat."

"Do you drink?" he asks Clarke. "Any answer is fine."

"Beer is gross," she says, and he laughs. 

"Okay, come on, we'll find something better."

She follows him into the kitchen, and he mixes her something involving like five different bottles. It actually tastes really good.

"I bartend over the summer," he tells her, and pours himself a Coke. "Don't tell them. I'm driving." When they get back to the living room, he points at the girl who told them to buy drinks. She's brown-haired and slim, pretty. "This is Roma, my ex-girlfriend. Next to her is Nyko, Wick, Anya, Indra, and Miller. Guys, this is Clarke. She's my sister's roommate."

"Hi," she says, awkwardly waving. The circle makes room for them, and she and Bellamy sit down between Miller and Roma.

"So, what was he doing?" asks Miller. "Before you made fun of him."

"Giving me an in-depth history of the Final Fantasy franchise."

Miller snorts. "Sounds about right. You know how to play kings?"

"No."

"Well, it's easy," says Bellamy. "Made any rules yet?"

"Whenever Indra drinks, Anya has to drink too," says Roma. She smiles at Clarke, friendly and intimidatingly older and hotter. She's not crushing on Bellamy, which is good, because she isn't particularly short or unattractive, but Roma is more of a beauty than she'll ever be, and that's Bellamy's type, so. She's not going to develop feelings for him for a third reason. "So, basically, we go around in a circle, picking cards, and whatever card you pick determines what happens." She outlines the rules, which are easy, if numerous, and they resume play like they've always known her, like she's part of the group.

Wick realizes Bellamy isn't drinking when he automatically grabs his cup for a refill and Bellamy won't let him take it; they harp on him, but it's good-natured, and no one seems to actually _care_ , no peer pressure or anything.

"I'm being a good influence," Bellamy says. 

"Yeah, I call bullshit on that one," says Miller. "Not drinking to set a good example for your freshman only counts if you aren't also enabling the freshman to drink."

"Hey, it's not my fault she's not following my good example," says Bellamy, grinning at Clarke.

"He's right," she agrees. "He tries so hard and I just ignore all his sage wisdom."

Bellamy snorts. "See what I have to put up with?"

Once Indra pulls the last card, they finish with kings, Clarke switches to juice, and they play a few rounds of some fighting game before Miller says, "Okay, I should get back to _my_ freshman. I'm guessing now is when they start staggering in and puking everywhere."

"Right," Clarke says, mostly to herself. "You and Bellamy switched assignments."

Bellamy looks surprised that she knew. "Yeah," he says. "You still owe me for that, by the way," he adds to Miller.

"Please, like you _didn't_ want to be on Octavia's floor. I was doing you a favor too."

He rolls his eyes, but doesn't deny it. When they're in the truck, he asks, "Did I tell you about Miller?"

"No. I heard you and Octavia fighting about it when I moved in. Before I knew it was--you and Octavia," she says, with a vague hand wave. "Something about an asshole ex."

"Yeah. Murphy, the third-floor RA. He and Miller went out last year, but he's a total asshole." He flashes her a grin. "Speaking of which, avoid Murphy, the third-floor RA. He's a total asshole."

Clarke laughs. "Thanks for the heads up. And, you know--" She bites her lip. "For this. I had fun."

"Well," he says. "I'm not a _total_ loser."

*

She meets Finn Collins in her film seminar, and, if she's honest, she _decides_ to have a crush on him. It's a conscious choice. If she has a crush on Finn, she won't have a crush on Bellamy. And he's fun, cool, the kind of guy she likes. He cracks jokes during the lectures, scribbling them on her notes, and he's got a great smile. When he invites her to a party on Friday, she even agrees, and drafts Octavia, Jasper, and Monty to come for backup. She nearly asks Bellamy, because she's probably closer to him than she is to Jasper and Monty, honestly, but--that would be weird. And probably counter-productive.

"Okay, so, tell me more about him," says Octavia, sitting cross-legged on her bed as Clarke looks through her shirts. She doesn't have a lot of party clothes. "I'm going to have to determine if he's good enough for you."

"Um, he's a junior, English major. He wants to be a teacher." She shrugs, flushing a little. It's easy to be enthusiastic about him, because he's cute, and he seems interested in her, and, as a bonus, is not her RA or related to anyone she knows. "I don't know him that well, but--I like him."

"Awesome," says Octavia. "I tentatively approve until I meet him. Here, wear this." She tosses Clarke a tank top, and Clarke pulls it on. It does look cute with her skirt. "Can I do your hair? I _love_ doing hair."

Bellamy stops by just as Octavia's finishing. "Hey, Clarke, I--" he pauses, frowns. "Oh. You guys going out?"

"Yeah, Clarke's new crush invited her to a party," says Octavia, and Clarke tries not to blush. "Why, you want to come?"

"Nah, I'm going to hang out at Roma's. But you guys have fun. Drink responsibly, don't do drugs, use protection, etc. etc."

"God, Bell."

He flashes a grin. "Yeah, I know. I'm the most embarrassing person ever, you're ashamed to be related to me, my dad was clearly the biggest dork of all time and I must get it from his side of the family. I know the drill." His smile softens when it shifts to Clarke, and Clarke smiles back, automatic. "You look nice. Have fun."

And then he's gone.

But she has a thing for Finn. Definitely.

"You look _awesome_ ," Octavia declares. "Are we pre-gaming? How much are we pre-gaming?"

They do a round of shots (shots are _the worst_ ) with Jasper and Monty and then head over to Finn's dorm. The party is in the basement; the floor is sticky, it's dark, there are strobe lights, and Clarke kind of hates it. But there's beer pong, which is totally her game, and Finn finds her almost at once, with a red solo cup all ready for her.

"We'll get our own, thanks," Octavia says, fierce.

"Sorry?" says Finn, looking confused.

"What, you _don't_ get why two girls might want to monitor what drinks go in their bodies at a college party?" she demands, and Clarke hides a smile.

"Oh!" says Finn, suddenly realizing. "Shit, I didn't even--of course, yeah, I was trying to be polite, I didn't mean--"

Octavia beams. "Good response. Take us to your keg."

They get their own beers, and Finn and Octavia and Jasper talk about classes and hometowns, easy. Finn puts his hand on Clarke's back to guide her around, and it's nice, casual affection that makes her feel a little excited. She hasn't done this kind of thing before, and this was what she wanted, when she thought about being a different kind of person in college. Going to parties with friends, hanging out with boys, meeting new people, maybe _acting_ on the fluttery feelings she gets when she likes someone, but still feeling like _herself_.

She and Octavia dominate at beer pong for a few rounds, and then Finn asks if she wants to dance. It's different, dancing with just him, instead of the crowd of Octavia and Jasper and Monty. And it's nice, being close, feeling the tug of possibility in her stomach.

"I'm really glad you came," Finn tells her, close to her ear, and she smiles.

"Yeah. Me too."

Bellamy's back in his room when they get back; Clarke wants to stop, but it feels weird, when she's with Octavia. She doesn't know if Octavia knows they're kind of friends. Maybe. So she just waves when he looks up, and he smiles and waves back.

"He seems nice," Octavia says, when they're back in their room. "Super into you."

"Yeah," says Clarke, feeling guilty because for a second, she thought Octavia meant _Bellamy_.

*

"So are you, like, out?" asks Octavia.

Clarke's working on her anatomy homework, so it takes her a second to figure out what she's talking about. "As bisexual, you mean?"

"Yeah."

"Um, I dunno. I guess not? I'm not _not_ out, but it doesn't come up very often. Why?"

"Monty wants to go to some GSA meeting tomorrow," she says. "Jasper and I told him we'd go with him, but I think he'd be happier to go with someone on the gay side instead of the straight side. If that's something you're interested in."

"Oh." She frowns. "Yeah, sure. I hadn't really--I sort of forgot that was a thing. But I'd be happy to go with him. Scope out cute girls, in case Finn doesn't work out."

She's talked to Monty less than Jasper, mostly because Monty is quieter than Jasper, so it's nice to get a chance to chat to him and hang out.

"I didn't know you were--" he starts, abortive, and she smiles.

"It's kind of theoretical, I guess," she says, and then immediately adds, "No, it's not, that's bullshit. I say being into girls is _theoretical_ because I haven't dated a girl, but I've never dated a guy either, so it's shitty I feel that way, right? I'm working on it. Internalized issues. But yeah. I'm bi."

Monty smiles. "I haven't dated any guys either," he offers. "But I'm pretty sure."

"Cool," she says. "I'm glad Octavia told me, I hadn't thought about joining, but it sounds like fun."

Miller's there when they get there, which she guesses shouldn't be a surprise, given her knowledge of his asshole ex-boyfriend. "Hey!" she says, going over and sitting with him. "What's up?"

Miller does look surprised, but not upset. "Not much. Welcome to the club."

"Thanks." She glances back at Monty, who's hovering. "Hey, sit down. This is Miller. He's friends with Bellamy."

"Oh," says Monty, a little awkward, but he joins them. "Hi, I'm Monty."

"Nice to meet you," says Miller.

"Is Miller your first name? I was't actually sure," she asks.

"It's Nate, but pretty much everyone calls me Miller. Are you guys joining up?"

"Assuming it's not terrible, yeah," says Clarke. "Right?"

Monty looks kind of nervous, glancing at Miller like he's intimidated, which has her confused for half a second, and then it becomes _adorable_. "Right."

"So, which side of the alliance are you on?" Miller asks her.

"Neither, I guess. Bi."

"Oh, cool. That's good." It seems like a weird thing to say, and he must realize it, because he adds, "We've been talking about if GSA isn't inclusive enough, and whether or not we're making people on the LGBT spectrum feel like this isn't a place for them. So I'm glad you felt welcome."

It's the most she's ever heard Miller say at a time, and it makes her smile. "Well, so far, anyway. What about you?"

"Gay," he says.

"Me too," Monty offers, shy, and Clarke sits back and wonders if there's a good way to make that happen.

*

Octavia's idea is a party; Octavia's idea might _always_ be a party.

"Come on, Bell! It'll be fun!"

"No booze," he says, and at her look, he clarifies, "No _official_ booze. I'm not going to be kicking anyone who pre-gamed out or anything. But I don't know how many people will show up who are even legal to drink, so I'm not going to bother getting booze brought in. We'd have to check IDs and it would be a giant pain in my ass. I will get a sound system and non-alcoholic beverages and help Monty set up the video game system in the basement, but that's the extent of what I'm willing to do for you."

"And invite your friends," says Octavia. "I haven't seen Roma since you were a freshman!"

"That's because we broke up, and it's awkward," Bellamy says, all good cheer.

"Which is why you're always hanging out there."

"I'm awkward everywhere," he tells her. "But I'll let them know."

Clarke invites Finn too; just because she's trying to set Monty up doesn't mean she can't also benefit from the party. 

Her mom calls just as she's about to head downstairs; she sends Octavia ahead of her and takes the call.

"Hey."

"Hey, honey. I just wanted to check in, maybe chat a little, see how classes are going. I can't believe it's been almost a month already. I'm sorry I didn't call sooner."

They've traded emails, and she did call after the first day of classes; Clarke hasn't been feeling neglected. And she can't help being a little amused that, of course, her mother would decide to check in at nine o'clock on a Saturday night, assuming Clarke isn't doing anything.

"No, it's okay, I've been meaning to call too."

"So, how are classes going? How's everything?"

"It's good," she says. "Everything's going well. My roommate is great, and I'm making friends. I'm actually about to head out."

"Oh, really? What's happening?"

"Our RA is throwing a party, I thought I'd go by."

She can almost _hear_ her mother frowning. "There won't be any alcohol, will there?"

Clarke looks at the empty shot glasses on her desk. "No, no," she says. "Of course not. Bellamy's really strict about that. If he catches any of us drinking in the dorm, he gets really pissed." Which is, technically, true. It's mostly because he has to then tell them not to and figure out if he's going to discipline them, which is a pain for him, but still. Technically true.

"Oh good. Be careful, okay? Have fun, but--be careful."

"I will. I'll call you tomorrow morning, okay? I do want to talk."

Her mother hums. "Make it afternoon? I've got a charity brunch tomorrow."

Clarke has to smile; she's absolutely going to get voice mail, but that's okay. If their conversations go too long, they always hit something a little awkward anyway. "Yeah, sure. Love you."

"Love you too. Have fun at your party."

Bellamy's fiddling with his laptop when he gets downstairs, while Octavia, Jasper, Monty, and the rest of the people who have already showed up play Mario Kart. Clarke's pleased to see Miller's there, with Roma, Indra, and Wick, and he's sitting next to Monty on the floor.

"Technical difficulties?" she asks Bellamy.

"Nah, we're good." He flashes her a grin. "Octavia said your boyfriend was coming."

"God, he's not my boyfriend. We're just--shut up."

"Oh, yeah, that clears everything up."

She considers, but then says, "I haven't really dated anyone before. I don't really know how to make it happen."

"Spend time with him, go to parties, get to know him. What you're doing, pretty much." He shrugs. "Don't stress about it. Dating should be fun and easy; if it's not, you're dating the wrong person."

"You make it sound simple."

"Well, like I said. It should be." He bumps his shoulder against hers. "But I am going to have to approve him."

"Octavia already did. You don't trust her?"

"She can approve any girls you date," he says. "But she can't approve guys. She might be swayed by how attractive they are. I'll be more objective."

Clarke snorts. "You've got this all figured out, huh?"

"I'm a genius," he says, and starts the music playing. 

They're still hanging out by his laptop when Finn shows up, playing table football with paper clips while Clarke makes fun of Bellamy's taste in music.

"Hey!" she says, grinning, when she spots him. "Bellamy, this is Finn."

"Yeah, we know each other," he says, to her surprise. "We were roommates freshman year." He offers his hand, with a smile. "Good to see you, man. How's it going?"

"Fine, can't complain," says Finn, doing that arm clasp thing that some guys seem to prefer to a normal handshake. Guys are weird. "Hey, Clarke," he adds, with a smile just for her.

"How's Reyes doing?" Bellamy asks, and it sounds kind of--pointed. It's a question with a lot of sharp edges.

"Oh, we broke up," says Finn, looking surprised. "She's studying abroad this semester. Long distance, you know?"

Bellamy nods, apparently satisfied; Clarke shoots him a look, but he doesn't seem particularly intimidated or guilty. "Are you going to hang out here all night by yourself?" she asks him.

"Definitely," he says. "I like feeling like I'm controlling you with the music. Getting my puppetmaster on. Go have fun, okay?"

"Yeah, yeah," she says. "Just make sure you have fun too!"

He grins and waves, and she follows Finn to the dance floor. The music is mostly fast and hard, the kind that makes Clarke want to jump a lot and yell _woo_ , so she goes with it. Finn looks mostly amused, but eventually seems to get fed up with the lack of contact, because he drags her off the dance floor to a quieter part of the basement so they can talk.

"I didn't know you knew Bellamy," he remarks.

"Yeah, he's our RA. And his little sister is my roommate." She smiles. "Small world."

"Apparently."

"Who's Reyes?"

"Raven, my ex-girlfriend. She's in Japan for the semester, we broke up before she left."

Clarke finds herself not sure what to say, and Finn must not know either, because he leans in and kisses her instead. It takes her totally by surprise, and she moves her head in exactly the wrong way, hitting her nose against his mouth. He laughs softly and puts his hand on her cheek, keeping her steady so he can kiss her again, and it's--fine. Nice, even. It's not the kind of life-changing moment that first kisses are in teen romance novels, but that's not really a surprise. And it gets a lot more exciting once his tongue gets involved, all hot and wet, and, yeah, okay, kissing is _awesome_.

They're startled apart by a round of cheers from the group of people still playing Mario Kart, and Clarke glances over in time to see Monty and Miller high-fiving. She grins.

Finn catches her jaw and turns her back to him. "Was that okay?" he asks.

"Yeah," she says, and kisses him again.

*

She flops down on Bellamy's futon the next morning. He's playing Final Fantasy again, and she makes him update her on the plot points she's missed before asking, "So, I've got your approval?"

"For what?"

"Finn."

"Oh," he says, making a face. "Yeah, no, sorry."

" _No_?" she asks, incredulous.

He shrugs, nonchalant, not looking away from the game. "Obviously it's your decision, but I don't think he's good enough for you."

"Why not?"

He considers. "Okay, so, freshman year, we're roommates, right? He's fine, I guess, nothing special. And he's got this amazing girlfriend. Raven? Seriously, she's one of the coolest people I have ever met."

Clarke tries not to be jealous, but it's hard. "Please tell me you didn't have a crush on his girlfriend and now you're holding a grudge. He did say she was single now."

"I did not have a crush on his girlfriend." He pauses, and then says, "Wick did, I'm pretty sure Wick still _does_ , but, just, god. I don't know what you and her see in him. He's just--" he makes a frustrated noise. "You know how some people are so boring it's offensive?"

Clarke doesn't want to, but she can't help it; she starts laughing. "Okay," she says, once she recovers. "You cannot take that as me agreeing with you. He's _not_. But in general, yes, I know people who are like that."

Bellamy's looking smug anyway. "I'm just saying, you're just as cool as Raven, and you could do way better. But, obviously, it's your call. You can be wrong if you want to be." He glances at her. "Also, are you trying to set up Monty and Miller?"

"Yeah," she says, frowning. "Why, is it super obvious?"

He snorts. "I don't think they noticed, but Octavia mentioned it. I can't believe you didn't come to me for this."

"What, you need to approve Monty too?"

"Nah, Monty's great. He's got a personality and everything."

"You're such a dick," Clarke says, fond, and Bellamy just grins.

*

"So, are you developing a social life?" Wells asks. It's Tuesday, and Octavia is out studying with friends, so Clarke is taking the opportunity to catch up with phone calls when it doesn't feel like she'll disturb her roommate. She's already chatted with her dad and briefly with her mom, and it wasn't even weird. "I was expecting calls every night, to be honest."

"I have plenty of friends," she says. "I might have a boyfriend."

"How do you not know?"

"We made out last weekend," she says. "But we haven't really talked about it." They had class today and they flirted a little, brushing arms and legs together, smiling over their notes, but she has a lab right after the film class ends, so they didn't have a chance to chat after.

"Okay, so, tell me about him," says Wells, and Clarke feels a wave of fondness, that he's willing to talk to her, that his feelings for her didn't destroy the two of them. "What's he like?"

Her immediate thought is _so boring it's offensive_ because, damnit, Bellamy. "His name's Finn," she says. "He's--nice," and seriously, can't she come up with something _better_? "We're in the same film class. He's funny."

"You're not really wowing me with this one, Clarke."

"I know, I know. He's cool! Really. I'm just--Bellamy said some shit about him and now that's all I can think about."

"Oh, _Bellamy_ said it," he says, all sly insinuation.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"I was just expecting if you were going to date anyone, it was going to be him."

"He's my RA," she says, hoping she's not blushing or something equally embarrassing. "And his sister is my roommate. We're friends."

"That's kind of shitty," Wells observes, mild. 

"Which part?"

"If you'd rather be dating Bellamy, you shouldn't go out with someone else. It's not fair."

"I didn't say that," she protests, but--if everything else in the world were equal, if she could just have one of them, and no one would get upset or say it was inappropriate or whatever else, and if he _wanted her_ , she'd take Bellamy, and it wouldn't even be a question. It wouldn't even be close. "Shit," she mutters.

"What did he say about your maybe boyfriend, anyway?" asks Wells. He thinks this is _funny_ , the dick.

"That he's so boring it's offensive," Clarke mutters, and Wells laughs his ass off too.

"Well, if the best you can do is--"

"Shut up," Clarke says, without heat. "He's a good guy!"

"Then don't be a jerk to him," Wells says, sobering. "Don't date someone just because you can't date someone else. That's not you."

She swallows. "Yeah. That's not--I won't. I'm not--I didn't mean to be doing that."

There's a knock on her door, and she glances over at it. "Uh, one sec. It's open!" Bellamy sticks his head in, and now she's _definitely_ blushing. "Hey, what's up?"

"Shit, I'm interrupting, sorry," he says. "I can--"

"No, it's fine," Clarke assures him. "Come on in. Wells, this is my RA, Bellamy, who I assume is worried his sister is on a secret date. I'm going to reassure him she's on _five_ secret dates."

Bellamy doesn't even crack much of a smile, which worries her. Wells says, "Yeah, talk to you later," and is nice enough to not even make it sound smug. 

She closes the laptop, and Bellamy goes over to sit on Octavia's bed, looking anxious. Clarke frowns. "What is it?"

"Look, I--I don't want to be a jerk or interfere in your life or anything, I swear this was not--I wasn't meddling."

"Okay," says Clarke, wary. "Seriously, what is it?"

"I mentioned to Wick that Raven and Finn broke up, and he said he was pretty sure they didn't. I figured he just hadn't heard about it, but I guess he asked her about it and she says they're still together." He runs his hand through his hair. "Obviously, I don't know any details or anything, but--I thought you should know. I always thought they were pretty serious, so--sorry."

He looks so uncomfortable, Clarke feels weirdly bad for him, even though she's probably supposed to be the wronged party. "Bellamy," she says, getting out of her chair to sit next to him. "Why are _you_ apologizing?"

"Octavia made me promise to cut down on my meddling." 

"I don't think it's meddling if it's an accident," she says. "God forbid you tell Wick his crush is single."

"You don't seem that upset," he observes, looking a lot less miserable. 

"I'll ask him about it, but--" she shrugs, looking up at him. He's--well, yeah, everything else being equal, she'd rather have him. "It's not like we were that serious. If he's a lying jerk, I'd rather find out now."

Bellamy looks at her for a long minute, and Clarke becomes aware of how close they are, the warmth coming off his arm, just how many freckles he has. 

"Yeah," he says. Does his voice sound rough, or is it just her imagination? "Well, I hope he's--not a jerk," he settles on, kind of awkwardly.

"I thought he wasn't good enough for me."

"He's not. But I hope he wasn't using you to cheat on his girlfriend anyway."

Clarke smiles. "Thanks, Bellamy."

He wets his lips, and she stands up mostly because she absolutely cannot be this close to him. It's not okay. "So, how many dates is O on?" he asks, and it sounds a little forced, but she's grateful.

"Ten."

"Busy night."

"Well, you know Octavia. Efficiency." She's not even sure what she's saying, but talking is helping her not think about how much she wants to kiss him. He's probably not even _allowed_ to kiss her. There are probably rules about it being a conflict of interest for an RA to date his charges. Or his sister's roommate. Or just a dumb kid.

"Right." He rubs the back of his neck. "I'm about to fight Seymour again," he offers. "I'll be swearing a lot, it'll probably be funny."

Clarke smiles. "Let me grab my reading and I'll be right over," she says, and his answering smile is relieved.

She's not sure the same thing happened to both of them, but it makes her feel better that whatever it was, it clearly wasn't just her.

*

"He what?" asks Octavia. She's flopped down on Bellamy's futon next to Clarke.

"Bellamy's friend says his ex-girlfriend says they're not broken up," Clarke says.

"I know that sounds like a game of telephone, but I think the information is good. Wick's had a crush on her since our freshman year, he's motivated to stay on top of her relationship status."

"Dick!" she says.

"It could've been a miscommunication," Clarke says. "I'm going to talk to him before I leap to any conclusions."

"But she's not that serious about him anyway," Bellamy says, with a smile. "Because he's the most boring human being ever to walk the earth."

"Are you really okay?" asks Octavia, when they get back to their room. "Bell didn't mean to pry."

"I know he didn't," says Clarke. "I'm not mad at him. I would've told my friend if I found out his long-time crush was single again. It's just being polite. And I still don't know--maybe Finn thought he broke up with her and she thought they were on pause or something. I don't know."

Octavia looks over at her, considering. "Do you want him to be?"

"Yeah. Not because--" she considers. "I think we probably don't have much of a future either way. Like Bellamy said, we're not serious or anything, and I don't think we've really got that spark. But I'd rather he wasn't using me to cheat on his long-term girlfriend."

Octavia makes a face. "Yeah, when you put it like that."

"How about you?" Clarke asks. "I haven't heard much about your love life."

Octavia lights up. "Well, okay. There is this one guy. He comes into the library sometimes when I'm on shift, he's, like--man, Clarke, you should see him. Six-foot-plus, tattoos, the best smile, but I think he's embarrassed about it. I have to trick him into laughing when I'm checking out his books."

"What's his name?"

"Lincoln."

"And when are you making a move?"

She sighs and flops back. "That's the thing. He's a _grad student_. I don't know exactly how old he is, but he probably thinks I'm just some silly kid."

"Hey," says Clarke, gentle. "He probably thinks you're the hot girl who works at the library, trust me."

She laughs. "Yeah, but you know what I mean. What would I even say?"

" _Hey, want to get coffee sometime?_ "

"For someone who doesn't really date much, you're pretty bossy about telling other people how to do it," Octavia says, sticking her tongue out. She can't keep it up though, and starts laughing. "It's not like I even know anything about him. He might be a dick. But he's a dick who's fun to look at."

"So it could be worse."

"It could be worse."

*

Thursday after class, Finn says, "Do you want to get dinner sometime?"

Clarke bites her lip, not sure how to bring up the girlfriend thing. No one involved has done anything wrong, as far as she knows; the worst is probably Bellamy telling his friend, at least from Finn's perspective, but she thinks it's fine. If they were really broken up, it wouldn't have been Finn's business if Wick made a move. "So, this is kind of awkward, but--you know Bellamy's friend Wick?"

"Kind of, yeah."

"Bellamy mentioned to him that you and your ex broke up, and Wick mentioned it to her, and she said you, uh--didn't break up."

Finn blinks. "Why would Bellamy tell him that?"

"That's your first question? Not, say, oh my god, of course we broke up, why would she think we hadn't?"

He looks ashamed at that, at least. "I guess it might've been kind of ambiguous," he grants.

"If it's ambiguous, it's not a very good breakup," Clarke snaps. "What does that even mean? How would she not know?"

"We've been friends our whole lives," says Finn. "Best friends. I didn't want to hurt her, so--maybe I wasn't as clear as I should have been. The last thing I want to do is hurt her."

"Well, if she finds out about _this_ ," Clarke says, slow, like she's explaining to a child, "she's going to be really fucking hurt. So get your shit together."

"I'm sorry. I'll break up with her." He bites his lip. "And maybe after--"

"Break up with her," says Clarke. "It has nothing to do with me. She deserves someone who doesn't treat her like shit. Don't make this about me."

She leaves before he can say anything.

She's planning to go straight back to her dorm, but Bellamy's door is open, and she has awful impulse control. He's on his computer, surrounded by textbooks, but he gives her a genuine smile when he sees her. "Hi, Clarke. What's up? Everything okay?"

"Finn admitted his breakup with his girlfriend might have been _kind of ambiguous_ ," she says, making air quotes.

Bellamy snorts. "Wow, seriously?"

"I know, right? I tried not to be too, like, I am never going out with you if you treat people like this, but jesus."

"Why did you not want to say that?" he asks, frowning. "That's the right thing to say."

"Honestly, I was afraid if I told him I was never going out with him, he wouldn't break up with her, and he needs to fucking break up with her, seriously. But of course I'm not going to go out with him."

"So, what you're saying is you were _kind of ambiguous_ ," he teases, and Clarke laughs.

"Kind of."

"I'm sorry," he says, serious again. "That's a shitty thing to have happen."

She shrugs. "It could have been a lot worse. I could have really liked him." She considers. "Can I read in here? I don't really feel like being alone until Octavia gets back."

"Yeah, of course. My door's always open," he says, smirking. "I keep telling you."

*

On Friday, Octavia is going out, and Clarke decides not to again. She's not convinced going to parties to try to meet up with people is really the best way for her to do the whole dating thing. And that's leaving aside the whole Bellamy issue.

So of course, ten minutes after Octavia leaves, he shows up and says, "Roma's?"

When they walk in, Wick says, "My new favorite!" and gives her a huge hug.

"Hi, Wick," she says, laughing. "Raven and Finn broke up?"

"I can't believe _he_ broke up with her," says Wick, shaking his head. "There's no justice. She should have kicked him to the curb years ago. What does that guy have, anyway?"

"Cute floppy hair," says Bellamy, running his hand through his own messy curls.

"We could straighten yours," Roma tells him, ruffling his hair as she passes. "We could make you look like an awkward boyband douchebag."

Bellamy swats her off. "Thanks for your support, babe."

Clarke slides out of Wick's arms. "Drinks?" she asks.

"I'll make you something," says Bellamy, following her into the kitchen.

He grabs bottles out of the fridge, and Clarke can't help asking, "What happened with you and Roma?"

"We figured out we were better as friends." She raises her eyebrows, and he shrugs. "We started having sex because we were bored and horny, and there wasn't much of an emotional connection. She wanted more from a boyfriend, so we broke up, and she's dating Nyko, which works better for everyone." He hands her a drink. "It was the least dramatic breakup of all time."

"I guess that explains why you still hang out."

"Well, I'd have to make new friends, and that would be a pain. You're pretty much the first new friend I've made since freshman year."

"And we're just friends because I'm in your dorm."

"Nah, I'd still like you," he says, like it's not a big deal. "Come on, let's go see what they're doing."

She gets drunker than usual, mostly because she's still kind of upset about her entire Bellamy situation. He makes her drink water and bundles her into her room, where Octavia is waiting.

"Did you seriously take her out and get her drunk, Bell? You never take me out and get me drunk," says Octavia.

"Well, you never want to hang out with me. It's your loss. Keep an eye on her, okay?"

"Yeah, yeah."

Clarke flops on her bed and stares up at the ceiling after he's gone. "You know I want to make out with your brother, right?"

"Yeah."

"Sorry."

Octavia snorts. "Don't apologize, just make out with him."

"Oh. Really?"

"Yes. Go to sleep."

*

In the morning, Octavia sits her down and says, "Are you not making a move on Bellamy because of me?"

"Um, not really. I figured he probably wasn't allowed to anyway. Conflict of interests or something? Or it's just creepy?" She rubs the back of her neck. "I tried really hard not to be interested. I know he's your brother."

Octavia shrugs. "I like you. _He_ likes you. You should go for it."

"How?"

" _Hey, want to get coffee sometime?_ " Octavia teases.

Clarke groans. "You're no help."

"Seriously, Clarke. You should have seen him when I told him you were into Finn, he was so mopey. Like, _oh, she's seeing someone, I didn't know, I thought she would have told me_."

"Well, I got kind of weird about his ex-girlfriend last night, so--" she worries her lip. "You really don't mind?"

"I can't say it enough ways."

"Okay," says Clarke. "I'll, um. Keep that in mind."

"You do that. Want to get brunch before I go to work?"

They do, and Clarke follows her the library to work on her anatomy homework, mostly so she won't do it in Bellamy's room. Octavia's crush shows up around three to get out a huge stack of art history books; Clarke, being the great friend that she is, goes up to ask Octavia about plans for later, and pretends she's only just noticed Lincoln's books.

"Oh, what are you studying?"

"I'm getting my PhD," he says. "Well, my Masters, and then I'm planning to go on to my PhD. In Art History."

"Oh, awesome! What are you doing later? I'm thinking about doing an art major, I'd love to talk to someone about it. Do you want to get dinner with us?"

He glances over at Octavia, who smiles at him encouragingly.

"If you'd like, I'd be happy to help."

"Cool, Octavia's done at five. I'm Clarke."

"Lincoln. I'll meet you back here at five, then."

"See, it's easy," says Clarke.

"Yeah, I'm sure it's going to be just as easy when you ask my brother out."

She makes a face. "See if I do you any more favors."

Lincoln shows back up at five, and Clarke starts off asking him about art, like she said, but it's not hard to steer the conversation to things Octavia likes too. She's planning to major in drama, and apparently Lincoln has done some drama himself, and it doesn't take long for her to basically remove herself from their conversation. When Bellamy texts, _how am I still fighting seymour_ , she uses it as an excuse to say, "Oh, shit, I forgot, I'm supposed to meet someone. I gotta go. Thanks, Lincoln!"

She flops down on Bellamy's futon fifteen minutes later. "You're really bad at killing this guy."

"He stole my girlfriend and tried to forcefully marry her."

"Dick." She pauses. "In the interest of full match-making disclosure, I'm trying to set your sister up with a twenty-three-year-old grad student. I think it's going well."

He raises his eyebrows. "How'd that happen?"

"I'm magic."

He sighs. "You couldn't have set her up with a nineteen-year-old who'd be terrified of me?"

"He's way taller than you. Probably more ripped than you."

"Thanks."

"I'd have to see you guys shirtless next to each other to be sure."

He snorts. "For science."

"For science."

*

Miller's dorm is having a Halloween party, and Monty is freaking out. They've been going to the GSA meetings regularly, but Monty and Miller are not very good at this whole flirtation/relationship thing. Not that Clarke can really talk on that front; Bellamy is stretched out on the common-room couch, working on something on his laptop with his feet in Clarke's lap. She's pretty sure Octavia is right, but she still doesn't know what to do. She doesn't know how to ask him for this.

"I don't know how to do cool, adult costumes. Jasper and I just always dress up as hobbits."

"If Miller doesn't want to date a hobbit, do you really want to date him?" Jasper asks. "I mean, really. I know he's hot, but he should like you for you."

"Is there a way you can be a sexy hobbit?" Clarke asks. "A speedo and furry feet. Like those girls who just wear bikinis and cat ears."

"Miller probably likes hobbits," says Bellamy absently. "We've watched the extended Lord of the Rings more than once."

"So be a regular, non-sexy hobbit," says Clarke. "No shame in being a hobbit."

"A little shame in being a hobbit," says Octavia. "But standard levels of shame for you. No more than usual. What should _I_ be?"

"Is your grad student boyfriend coming?" asks Bellamy, nudging Clarke hard with his toe. She smacks his foot.

"No, and he's not my boyfriend. But I still want to look hot. We're Facebook friends now, so I can post pictures and show him what he's missing out on."

Bellamy snorts. "You've got this figured out." He pokes Clarke with his foot again. "What about you?"

"What about me?"

"Halloween costume."

"I dunno. I was thinking I might not even go."

"No, you have to come!" says Monty, sounding horrified. "You're my original wingman, I need you."

"Yeah, and it's Halloween," says Bellamy. "Halloween's fun."

"Bell just likes it because it's the only opportunity he has to wear his Roman legion armor every year," says Octavia.

"I find other ones," says Bellamy, cheerful. "People have costume parties. I get there at least twice most years."

Clarke laughs. "Okay, okay. I'll come."

Once they get back to their dorm, Octavia says, "So, wear something cute and make out with Bellamy?"

Clarke flushes. "Don't you find it creepy that you're trying to set me up with your brother?"

"Not really," she says, shrugging. "I like him, I like you, I never want to hear about your sex life, if you have one, but I don't see why I wouldn't want you guys to date. Bell needs a nice girlfriend, you need a nice boyfriend, it'll be cute." She claps. "I know just what you can wear to the party, too."

Clarke tries not to find that frightening, and fails.

*

She's been putting off Skyping Wells, mostly because she doesn't want to say he was right about everything, but he _was_ , and at some point, she is going to have to admit it. So she calls him on Thursday, when Octavia has her night class.

"I broke up with Finn and told my roommate I'm into her brother."

"I should make popcorn for when you call, it's like my own personal soap opera," he says. "What'd she say?"

"That I should go for it, and he's into me too."

"Yeah?"

She smiles. "I haven't done it yet, but I'm working on it. We're all going to a Halloween party on Saturday, I think that's when I'm supposed to--I dunno. Make a move, or whatever. Octavia is stealing us costumes from the drama department. I'm not allowed to know what she's planning." She cocks her head. "What's going on with you?"

"Nothing this interesting. Classes. It's getting colder and colder. I speak hockey as a second language. The usual."

"No exciting girlfriend prospects?"

"Not everyone's lives revolve around relationships," he teases.

"My life doesn't revolve around relationships," she says. "I have classes and shit. I'm a well-rounded person."

"Uh huh," says Wells.

"I talked to someone about his art history PhD." She's compelled to add, "In part so I could hook him up with my roommate."

"You were so close for a minute."

"I do want to major in art," she admits. "I haven't told my mom yet. I hate my anatomy class. I don't want to take hard sciences. I want to starve to death on the streets."

"You know you don't need a degree for that, right? You could start right away."

Clarke laughs. She shouldn't have put off calling him. "Good call. No more college, just dive right into starving to death."

Someone off-screen calls for him, and he says, "Yeah, be there in a minute!"

"Hockey?"

"Beer pong."

"On a _Thursday_? Irresponsible, Jaha."

"Thursday is the new Friday, Griffin. Have fun with your party and soap opera life."

"Thanks, fuck you too."

*

On Friday, she wakes up to a friend request from Raven Reyes, who is a UNC student doing study abroad in Kyoto, and is mutual friends with Bellamy, Finn, Wick, and the rest of Bellamy's friends. She goes over to Bellamy's room, but of course, it's one of the times he and Octavia both have class, so she sits in the hallway in front of his door, staring at her phone. It's not until Monroe, one of the girls who lives down the hall, walks by and gives her a look like she's actually insane that she realizes the whole thing is weird. But, really, what's she supposed to do with a friend request from Finn's ex-girlfriend? That can't possibly be good, right? 

Bellamy shows up before anyone else passes, as she knew he would. She doesn't _try_ to memorize other people's class schedules, it just comes naturally to her. "What's up?" he asks, unlocking his door.

"Finn's ex-girlfriend friended me on Facebook. Should I be worried?"

"Raven? Nah, Raven's cool." He looks amused. "What did you think she was going to do to you over Facebook? Poke you to death?"

She flops down on his futon. "I don't know. I just--I've never dealt with any of this stuff before. And I don't know how." She huffs. "And then I feel stupid, because part of what I wanted from college was to be a different person, but I just kind of--I feel like I always end up myself. And I didn't think I was the kind of person who got into these situations. It's confusing."

"Why did you want to change?" he asks. "I think you're good the way you are."

Clarke smiles a little. "Thanks. I guess I more--I thought I'd change? Just sort of naturally. I thought if I was away from my mom, I'd just--I figured she was why I didn't go to parties in high school, and why I didn't date, because she had all these plans for me and the rest of my life. And I'm starting to realize it was me all along. Or at least me too."

"You go to parties."

"Sometimes."

"You could date. If you found someone better than Finn." He considers, taps his pen against a stack of books on his desk. "You never really talk about your mom, you know. I figured if you were trying to get away, it was because of your dad. I probably wouldn't want to go to school anywhere my dad coached a sport, I'd worried about getting killed if we lost." He grins. "Although, seriously, if you wanted to get away from basketball, UNC was not a good choice."

She smiles. "No, I never got that involved in the basketball part. I mean, that probably would have sucked, but I always got along really well with my dad. My mom--I love my mom, but she's from old money, and she has all these expectations for me. And I just--I wanted to find out who I'd be if I got away from all that. I thought I'd be more different."

"As long as you're happy, what's the big deal?" he asks. "Friend Raven back, and if she yells at you, tell her to back off. Or whatever else feels right." He smiles. "I get that college feels like a time to reinvent yourself, but I don't think going to more parties or hooking up with more people is going to make you happier than watching me play Final Fantasy and hanging out with Octavia and Monty and Jasper. So why do it?"

She accepts Raven's friend request and sits up, making room for him on the futon. "So get over here and start playing."

"I could have stuff to do, you know," he says, but he goes over and turns on the Playstation anyway.

She gets a message from Raven only a few minutes later: _Wick says you're the one who convinced Finn his breakup with me wasn't sufficient, so thanks, because I'm pretty sure I would have found out when I got home, and that would have been fucking shitty. I owe you a drink when I get back._

She shows the message to Bellamy, who snorts. "That's Raven for you."

"She's not going to poison me?"

"I can't make any promises, but I think if she was going to kill anyone, it'd be Finn. Besides, she's waited this long to get in touch, she's probably thought it through." He shrugs. "If I were her, I'd be grateful, you rescued me from the most boring guy in the--"

She shoves him, but he's laughing, and she is too.

*

Octavia's gotten herself an Artemis costume; Clarke is Athena. Both of them have more cleavage than Clarke thinks is historically accurate, but she has to admit she feels pretty badass. Prop swords are _awesome_ , she needs like ten. They do a couple shots, and Clarke barely even winces when they go down. This is what she's learned in two months of college: that she doesn't want to be a doctor, and how to do shots.

Octavia takes a bunch of selfies of them in the room, but doesn't post them to Facebook. "Bell might see, and I want to see his face when he sees you. So I can make fun of him about it. _Forever_."

Clarke thinks that's overestimating it a bit, but when she opens the door, he actually goes slack-jawed. Apparently girls in Greek armor is something he's into. "Uh, hi," he manages, staring surprisingly openly. "You're, uh. You look. Um." He scratches the back of his head. "Nice costume."

"Thanks. Octavia got it for me."

"Thanks," Bellamy tells his sister, dripping sarcasm. "Really."

Octavia bounces over to pose with her. "Get a picture of us, Bell."

Bellamy obligingly snaps a few pictures and hands the phone back to Octavia. She immediately starts fiddling with it. "Go ahead without me, I need to get these up on Facebook immediately so Lincoln can see where I'm going and how great I look and come."

Bellamy rolls his eyes, and Clarke figures there's no way Octavia will go with them after that, so she takes his arm and says, "We'll see you there."

His armor is pretty cool, if you're into armor, which she might be, and it's got a skirt kind of thing, which she has to approve of because she can check out his legs. "Can I see your sword?" she asks. He raises his eyebrows, and she elbows him, which is a mistake, because, again, he's wearing armor.

He smirks and unsheathes the sword, handing it over. "It's a gladius. Octavia got it for me for my birthday a couple years ago."

"And the rest of it?"

"Kind of cobbled together. Raven and Wick made the armor, they like metalworking for fun. I made the rest of it myself."

"Really?"

He shrugs, a little awkward. "We never had a lot of money when I was growing up. My mom worked two jobs and did clothing repair and tailoring on the side. I started helping her as soon as I was old enough. I got pretty good. It comes in handy."

"Well, it's awesome," she says, handing the sword back. "I can see why you're always looking for excuses to wear it."

"Thanks," he says. He looks down at her, and then away again, like he doesn't know how to maintain eye contact. "You know my sister's trying to hook us up, right?"

"I know."

His jaw works a little, but all he says is, "Okay, yeah. As long as we're both aware." And then he holds the door to Miller's dorm open for her without further comment.

Inside it's hot and loud, like all parties she's ever been to. Bellamy sticks close behind her, which is a little awkward, given he's mostly made of metal, but she still appreciates the thought. They find Miller first, hanging out with Monty, Jasper, and a girl named Harper with whom Clarke is only passingly familiar, and spend a little time on the obligatory costume conversations (Miller is Lando Calrissian, Clarke notices, so he's not allowed to judge anyone for being a hobbit), before going off to track down drinks.

That's where Finn finds them.

Clarke hasn't exactly been avoiding him; they still have class together, and their seats aren't assigned but they're definitely set by this point, so she sits with him and makes polite conversation, but she's been firm about not wanting to get dinner or date him or anything.

"Hey," says Finn. He's dressed as a ghostbuster, and she can't help being happy that he doesn't fit in with her and Bellamy at all. 

"Hi," says Bellamy, moving even closer behind her. It's kind of sweet, if unnecessary. "Didn't know you were friends with anyone in this dorm."

Clarke leans back into him, on the grounds that they're trying to deter Finn and they've both agreed Octavia is trying to hook them up, so there's a decent chance this could actually turn into her making out with him, if she plays her cards right.

"Yeah, I know the fourth-floor RA," Finn says, absent. "Clarke, look, I know I fucked up, but I really wanted to--" He lets out a frustrated noise. "Can we talk?"

He's probably not going to give up on this. Clarke turns back to Bellamy and says, "It'll only take a minute?" Hurt flashes across his face, so briefly she barely sees it, and on impulse, she cups his cheeks in her hands and leans up to press a too-brief kiss to his lips. "A minute," she says again, and squeezes his hand. He's still looking stunned when leaves, which is gratifying.

"So, you and Bellamy?" Finn asks, once they're outside.

"Yeah," she says, and hopes it's not a lie. "I--yeah."

"So I shouldn't try some impassioned speech to convince you to give me another shot."

"You shouldn't have tried that anyway," she says mildly. "When people tell you they don't want to be with you, you should believe them." She pauses. "And I'd say I was sorry you broke up with your girlfriend for me, but if you thought you'd already broken up with her and she didn't know, I guess I'm glad I helped get that sorted out."

Finn gives her a wry smile. "I guess. Well, uh, I won't keep you. Happy Halloween," he offers.

As goodbyes go, it's pretty pathetic, but Clarke's just glad it's done. "Happy Halloween," she says. "Bye."

Inside, Bellamy's leaning against the wall by the drinks table, watching the dance floor. Clarke slots herself in against his side. "Everything okay?" he asks.

"Yeah. He accepted I was taken, I told him I wouldn't go out with him even if I wasn't and reinforced that it was good he broke up with his girlfriend."

"Taken, huh?"

"Yeah."

He considers for a minute and then says, "So I know we just got here, but do you maybe want to leave?"

She laughs. "I didn't want to come in the first place."

For the first time ever, he closes his door after she follows him into his room, but he doesn't push her up against it for a kiss or anything like that. He just shrugs out of the metal part of his costume and flops down on the futon; Clarke does the same, even though she's really just wearing a thin white slip that's kind of see-through. He drapes his arm over her shoulders and says, "I'm going to be responsible for a minute, don't tell Octavia. She'll never let me live it down."

She laughs. "Responsible?"

He rubs his thumb against her shoulder, absent. "I like you a lot," he says. "But the last thing I want is for something to go wrong with us and suddenly you don't feel comfortable living in your dorm, or being roommates with Octavia, or--"

"Yeah, I've seen how you are with your ex-girlfriend," says Clarke, amused. "I'm not worried."

"Still," he says. "I don't want to put you in an awkward position if--" He shrugs. "All sorts of things can go wrong in relationships."

"So you don't want to?" she asks, soft. "Date me, I mean."

"Oh fuck no, I want to," he says, flashing her a grin. "Just--we should maybe keep it on the down low, it's allowed but not really encouraged, and if we break up and you can't be around me anymore, I'll make Miller switch back with me or something."

Clarke smiles, reaches over and takes his hand. It's warm and large, solid, rougher than hers. Nice. "I don't think that'll happen. But--thanks."

"Okay." He squeezes her hand and grins. "So, want to make out?"

It surprises a laugh out of her. "Done being responsible?"

"I tried to talk you out of it, but you never listen to me," he teases. "There's only so much effort I'm willing to put into warning you about the hazards of dating me, because I really want you to date me."

The only response she can come up with to that is to lean over and kiss him; her second kiss is a lot more like she wanted her first kiss to be, which is probably a sign that she should have skipped kissing Finn entirely. Bellamy sets the pace slow, exploratory, kissing her like he wants to savor every second and memorize it. He doesn't make any move to go further either, just slides his hand into her hair, and Clarke has to ask, "Did Octavia tell you?"

"Tell me what?" His voice is deeper than usual, rough, and he sounds a little breathless.

"That I don't have much experience with this."

He laughs softly. " _You_ told me that. You didn't date in high school, you barely dated Finn, and one of your goals in college was expanding your social life." He bites his lip. "And you never drink on sex-related Never Have I Evers during kings. Not that I've been paying attention to that. That would be creepy."

Clarke giggles against his neck, and his hand tangles in her hair, firm and affectionate. "That's fine, I paid attention to yours too."

"So we're both creepy, cool." He presses a kiss to her temple. "Don't worry about it, okay? I don't--it's not a big deal. Not to me. I'll take it at your pace."

Which is a sweet thing to say, and Clarke figures there's probably a better response than sliding into his lap and kissing him again, sloppy and inexperienced, but he doesn't seem to mind. He still doesn't move his hands, though, so grabs his wrist and puts his hand against her side, right below her breast. He laughs softly against her mouth, but apparently it's enough, because his hands start moving, one on her leg, sliding the thin material of her dress up, and the other to her breast, which is--

She breaks away to tug off the dress and get her bra off, because she really needs _more_ , now.

Bellamy looks vaguely dazed, all swollen lips and blown eyes, staring at her in wonderment. "Jesus," he breathes, and kisses her again, hands rough on her breasts, just like she wanted, and she grinds against him shamelessly. "I sort of figured your pace would be slower," he murmurs, amused. "Or you'd be--I don't know. Hung up on Finn."

He sounds a little vulnerable, and Clarke remembers Octavia saying he was mopey about it with a flash of guilt. She slides her hand into his hair and gives him a fast, soft kiss. "I liked Finn because I didn't think I was allowed to like _you_ , okay? It was a defensive move. My best friend yelled at me about it. Said I was being unfair to everyone."

She can see him swallow, the movement of his neck, the bob of his Adam's apple. "Oh."

"I've been hung up on you all year."

He laughs. "Yeah, me too." He runs his hands up her sides, raising goosebumps. "This is a lot of talking for how naked you are," he observes.

"You're not that naked. You could be a lot more naked."

He laughs and pushes her off him. "We could be on my bed, too." 

"I feel like the futon is more representative of our relationship. All my best memories with you are on this futon."

He laughs and pulls off his--whatever it is Roman legionnaires wear under their armor, leaving him in a pair of black boxer-briefs and unfairly hot. But he is her boyfriend, at least. "Well, I don't want to get any stains on it that Octavia might notice and make fun of me about, so let's make some awesome new memories on the bed."

His bed is the standard-issue dorm bed, which means it's tiny and not particularly comfortable, and the only way they really fit is with him on top of her, which is fine by her. He kisses her jaw, her throat, her breasts, lingers there, driving her crazy, and she pushes back against his thigh, desperate for friction. He chuckles, deep. "How far are you hoping to go tonight?" he asks.

She licks her lips, heart fluttering at the possibilities. "I didn't really have a specific plan."

He kisses her breastbone, weirdly chaste, given he'd just been sucking on her nipple. "Like I said, your pace." He smirks up at her, all bright eyes and freckles, and Clarke thinks she probably loves him. "Can I go lower?"

"Yeah," she says. "But tell me what you're doing."

He chuckles. "Is that so you can veto, or because you like hearing me talk?"

"Both." She pauses. "Mostly the second."

"Well, first," he says, sliding down and hooking his fingers in the band of her underwear. "I'm taking these off." He slides them down and off, and Clarke wants to be self-conscious, but he shows no signs of disappointment. "Then, god, I don't know. I can't decide if I want to use my hands or my mouth first." He presses a kiss to her inner thigh. "Have you ever gotten yourself off?"

"Not all the way, I don't think," she says, squirming a little in anticipation. "I tried a couple times, just with my hands, but it took forever, and I fell asleep first."

He laughs. "Okay, yeah, I'm going to try to do better than that." His tongue darts out, and his hand slides between her legs. "Hands, then, definitely. Hands first, then mouth. I'm planning to get you off _a lot_." He surges up to kiss her again before she can respond, and finds her clit, teasing. Her hips jerk against his touch, pushing closer, and his rough, sure fingers are a thousand times better than her own fumbling attempts. He rubs her more steadily as he gets into a rhythm, and then he pulls back. She barely has time to moan a protest before he's repositioned, thumb still rubbing circles on her clit, fingers slipping inside her, sliding in easily because, god, she's so embarrassingly wet. "Fuck," he mutters. "Jesus, Clarke." He presses his mouth against her neck, not even quite kisses, not that coordinated. "You're so good."

"You're not even--you're not getting anything."

"I'm getting a lot." His free hand slides back up to her breast, playing with her nipple, and his thumb speeds up against her clit. Her orgasm isn't a surprise, but the intensity is more than she expected, and she flops back onto the bed, breathless and overwhelmed. Bellamy flops down next to her, on his side, back pressed against the wall, grinning hugely.

"Wow," she says. "Those _are_ as good as I heard they were."

He laughs and presses a kiss against her collarbone. "It's almost like people like having sex for a reason," he teases.

"Shut up." She slides her hand up to tangle in his hair and kisses him. "What about you?"

He shrugs. "Up to you. If nothing else, my hands work fine."

She licks her lips and tugs on the band of his boxers. "Off," she says, and he obliges. She knew what dicks looked like, from textbooks and health films and the internet, but it's different seeing his, and she's reaching out, curious, before she quite realizes it.

"Hi," he says, voice low and amused, but he gasps when her fingers close around him and she gives an experimental tug. He buries his face against her neck, laughing. "You're the fucking _best_."

"I'm sure plenty of girls have given you inept handjobs," she snaps, mostly out of embarrassment.

He lifts his face up, catches her chin and makes her meet his eyes. "Clarke," he says, genuine, eyes full of affection.

She swallows. "Sorry. I didn't--"

He presses his lips against hers, very chaste, given her hand's still working his dick. "You're the best," he says again. "But if you want me to fuck you, you shouldn't keep doing that." He kisses her neck again. "If you don't, keep going." She worries her lip, debating for a second, but then takes her hand away, deliberate. Bellamy looks up at her. "Yeah?"

"Yeah."

"Okay." He presses a quick kiss to her forehead and slides across her off the bed, crossing the room to his dresser. "If I'd known this was going to happen, I would have had condoms handy."

She laughs. "Next time I'll warn you."

He flops back next to her. She's not as relaxed and boneless anymore, and he seems to realize that, because he doesn't just slide the condom on and go for it. He starts kissing her again, long and slow, like he doesn't mind that he's hard and probably more than ready for this. His fingers find her clit again, gentle on the sensitive skin, and she's the one who finally fumbles for the condom and shoves it at him.

It doesn't hurt, not really, not like her horrific middle-school sex-ed classes told her it would. She's pretty sure she rode bikes and horses enough as a kid that her hymen's long gone, so it's just the size and unfamiliar pressure, and she's wet enough he slides in easily.

"Okay?" he asks.

"Yeah." She shifts her hips, experimental, and he hisses and drops his forehead to her shoulder.

"You're going to kill me."

"What?"

"Nothing, just--" He laughs and presses his lips to her collarbone. "I should have known you wouldn't be shy."

And then he's moving, slow at first, waiting for her to get the rhythm, until they're moving together, and it's good. Fantastic, even.

He comes first, swears under his breath, and she feels his cheeks heat up against her neck. "Sorry, sorry. It's been a while, I--"

She's going to tell him it's fine, but he slides down before she can, pulling out and licking inside her instead, leaving her too breathless to say anything at all. She comes again in no time, and lies on his bed in a happy fog while he does something with the condom and and pulls his boxers back on.

"Boxers?" she asks, fuzzy. 

"I can't sleep naked. Also it's not even eleven o'clock, which is way before I go to bed."

Clarke laughs. "Not into cuddling?" she teases, pulling on her own underwear. She looks around for clothes and just finds Halloween costumes; he tosses her a worn gray t-shirt, and she pulls it on. It's soft and smells like him, and he is never getting it back.

"I figured we could cuddle on the couch while I play video games."

"And they say romance is dead."

But it's actually really nice, curling up against his side, his arm around her, doing the same things they usually do, except he keeps pressing kisses to her hair and rubbing her side, absent affection, like he can't bear to stop touching her.

Octavia texts at around one and says, _This is a text to make sure you are not dead in a ditch._

 _I'm not dead in a ditch_ , she texts back. 

There's a pause and then, _Okay, please tell me where you actually are, with no graphic details._

_Down the hall with the door closed._

Octavia replies with a long string of emoticons, half of which she can't even interpret, but it seems overall positive.

Bellamy laughs and shakes his head. "She just thinks if she sets me up with my girlfriend, I won't be allowed to make comments about her boyfriends. She's definitely wrong."

Clarke laughs and snuggles closer. "You're such a good brother."

He saves his game and turns off the TV, putting the controller aside so he can tug her into his lap. "Round two?" he asks, kissing her.

"Round two," she agrees.

*

In the morning, Bellamy follows her and Octavia to brunch. Monty and Jasper are already there, looking tired and a little hungover, but happy.

"How'd it go with Miller?" Clarke asks. 

Monty ducks his head. "We went back to his room and played video games."

Bellamy and Clarke exchange a look at that, and Clarke feels herself flush. "That's not a bad start," says Bellamy, careful. "Miller likes video games."

"Don't have to ask if _you guys_ had fun," Jasper mutters under his breath, and Clarke kicks his foot. He gives her a sunny smile. "Missed you at the party."

Octavia says, "We're all happy, we're not talking about it, that's my _brother_."

"It was your idea!" Clarke protests, laughing. "You told me to."

"It wasn't my _idea_ ," says Octavia. "I'm just not _blind_. I wasn't going to fight fate. I wanted to be on the right side of history. But I don't want to hear any details except that everyone is happy and not hooking up in my room."

"It's my room too," Clarke says, all innocence.

"Yeah, don't be selfish, O."

She rolls her eyes and grabs her tray, all huffy drama, but Clarke can see her smiling. " _I'm_ going to work. Don't have sex in my room while I'm gone."

Bellamy glances at Clarke. "We could totally have sex in your room while she's gone."

She bumps his shoulder, and Jasper pokes miserably at his waffle. "I need a girlfriend."

"Hey, I'm still single," Monty protests. "I can be mad at them too."

"Yeah, _for now_ ," says Jasper darkly, and Bellamy finds Clarke's hand under the table, squeezes.

She calls Wells when she gets back to her dorm. "How was the party?" he asks. "If you got laid, my roommate owes me fifteen bucks."

"You and your roommate bet on whether or not I was going to get laid?"

"He got invested. Our lives aren't this exciting. He's failing to talk to a girl in his calc seminar, and I'm saving myself for Natalie Dormer."

"Wait, is that an option? I want to do that too."

Wells laughs. "So, seriously, do I get fifteen bucks?"

"If I got laid twice, do you get thirty? Because I got laid twice."

Wells whoops, and Clarke feels a profound rush of happiness that he's on her side for this, that he's not jealous or still pining or any of that. They're going to be friends. They're always going to be friends. "I'm proud of you."

"It was a group effort, but thanks. I'd like to thank my mom and dad, for sending me to college seven hundred miles away despite their reservations, my roommate for being supportive, if weird, the academy, and, of course, god--"

He laughs again. "I'm going to need to meet him, by the way. Officially. Give him a talking to, make sure he knows he's going to have to answer to me if shit goes wrong."

"I think he'll have to answer to me first, but--" she smiles to herself. "We already talked about it. He's good."

"I'll be the judge of that," says Wells.

"Fine. But when you get together with Natalie Dormer, I'll also have to interrogate her. Extensively. In private. With--"

"I'm never letting you _near_ Natalie Dormer. Bye, Clarke."

It feels a little weirder to wander over to Bellamy's room now, even though it should probably be less. She feels like she needs an excuse, like just going over to hang out isn't enough, but she reassures herself that that's silly and grabs her computer and some books.

He's on his laptop, but looks up at her knock and gives her a brilliant smile, one that makes her heart flip over. "Hi."

"Hey. I was going to do homework," she says.

He moves over a little, pats the futon next to him. "I'm coding, I would love company."

She sits down, not quite touching him, but close, and opens up her own laptop, pulling up her film paper. "Company's nice," she says, and he reaches over, squeezes her hand briefly, and goes back to work.


End file.
